


These foolish things

by TimeLordsWife



Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-03-21 03:28:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3675684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimeLordsWife/pseuds/TimeLordsWife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niamh Rian Howard has lived a complicated life, through the divorce of her parents, the deaths of many family members, brutality from loved ones and final freedom. After marrying a famous loved one, she feels it is finally time to open up about her past and her rise to fame, and where better place to do it that the Piers Morgan Show?</p><p>Piers Morgan's Life Stories, also known as Life Stories, is a British television chat show on ITV, presented by journalist Piers Morgan. Recorded in front of a studio audience, each programme is devoted to one celebrity guest. http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Piers_Morgan%27s_Life_Stories</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The face behind the mask

Through the ajar dressing room door, a small, nervous voice cautiously informs me there is only 5 short minutes until the show goes live, during which I am required to be sat in front of a live studio audience, on a formal yet cold black chair, whilst I am interrogated by Sir Piers Morgan, most hated man in Britain, and the world, and at the same time, correctly present myself in front of hundreds of sets of eyes. Why did I ever agree to this? I simply can't remember the last time I was this fearful, oh wait, yes I can... I refrain myself from reminiscing about such awful times right now. Gently, the partially opened door is knocked on, and in enters a kind man, tall and muscley, clad in smart black trousers and a black fitted shirt,   
"I'm here to escort you to set ma'am" he announced.   
"Thanks muchly", I replied chirpily,   
"what's your name sir?" I enquired to which he smiled and replied "John, Ma'am."   
The kid has manners I thought to myself   
"Well, thank you John, and your impeccable manners will get you a long way in life, your parents should be proud!" I exclaimed, to which, he replied with a simple, but pleased smile.

We walked in comfortable silence until we reached back stage, and with a slight tip of his head, he walked away again. I liked him, he was down to earth. 

Stand by on set

And 3

2

1

Action 

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen and welcome to a very special edition of Life Stories"

His voice was already making my skin crawl. He was clad in a set of clearly pricey suit trousers and blazer, yet, he appeared to have the inability to fasten up the very top button of his ludicrously striped shirt, I hated Mr Morgan already.

"On tonight's show, we finally get to grips with the monstrosity of a life which Niamh Rian Howard has lived through. Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, we uncover the truth"

I felt sick to the bone as the audience violently clapped and cheered. 'A bunch of hounds' I thought, why did I agree to this?! 

"Now, now, let's introduce our special guest, through a brief overview of their life"

A short selection of news clips began playing to the audience, each documenting a turning point in my life.

My parents divorce

My abusive step father

My fathers announcement of his sexuality 

The car accident which killed everyone but me and my brother

Drug abuse

Rise to fame

Abusive lover

Supposed affair with Benedict Cumberbatch

Relationship with The Cumberbatch

Adopting our first child

The audience all stilled and quietened as Piers Morgan welcomed me onto the stage, I was all smiles, but inside, I wished I was anywhere but in that room.

The truth is about to be revealed, but suddenly, I don't know if I'm ready.


	2. The beginning of the end

The audience roared like lions with excitement at my presence. The bright, white spotlight shone harshly at me, making me feel blinded, reminding me of the headlights belonging to the car bold, breathtaking black Range Rover which drove directly into my family car, killing them. I must not think of this, now is the time to keep level headed, and smile as you are an idol to many of these people. 

Me, an idol? It seems bizarre, a series of unfortunate events has followed me through life, cursing me at every corner. Destruction seems to eventually follow me through every walk of life, and yet, here I am, thriving, and for the past 10 years or so, I've been in a good place. So why am I making myself remember all of the bad stuff now? Oh yeah, to free my families name, and allow them to finally rest in peace.

My legs suddenly feel as though they turn to jelly as I take several steps on to the stage. I can feel my heart beat in my throat, my head, my ears and my backside. I rarely feel nerves like this.

My plain black 3 inch booted heels, as I now realise, were a good choice due to how unsteady I feel. As I am just under 6ft tall, I don't need the hight advantage as I already tower over Piers Morgan. His stern mouth and pointing nose are a stark contrast to the care and compassion portrayed in his eyes.

It's all an act, I though 

I shook His hand and kindly smiled at him before bowing my head slightly towards the audience, sending them wild yet again.

The applause ebbs as I take a seat. The chair, I had always assumed, would be comfy, but I couldn't have been more wrong. It's well worn black leather clings to you as you perch yourself in it, holding you hostage for the verbal abuse to follow. The chairs springs, designed to make it more comfy, stick out at precarious angles, slicing into your back in varying places, only add to the bad feeling boiling at the pit of my stomach.

The onslaught of sympathy begins.

"Niama-Rian Howard, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the show! And let me say on behalf of all of us here, it's an honour" says Piers with a forced and rehearsed smile of gratitude.

The audience cheers again and I smile back,  
"It's great to be here", the Northern English accent I carry heavily coming through at this moment in time. 

He asked me his usual polite questions, what I have coming up, how the family is, how the charity is coming along, etcetera.

Then he begins, and it doesn't start off too gently. But then again, my life has never been gentle. 

"As we understand, your life began in the usual way, you were a twin, you gradually got two younger brothers and a younger sister too. When did you notice your parents relationship deteriorating?"

Ah, the divorce question, I thought, my personal favourite!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was late one night, around nine o'clock, the rest of my siblings were in bed. Russell, Wilson and Brittany all occupied the second floor bedrooms whilst mum, dad, me and Florence occupied the third floor. 

Russell, Wilson and Brittany all had seperate rooms, all leading off from one large landing. Russell's room, the one next to the bathroom, was painted a light olive green, with large Amazon rainforest trees plastered on one of his walls. He loved dinosaurs growing up, and had a rather impressive collection of nicknacks regarding dinosaurs. His room was the largest on that floor, as he was the oldest boy. Russell grew up with sandy long hair, and with it being the 80's, he had a famous bowl cut. The fashion 'highlight' of our era. His bold, blue eyes pierced through children's and parents hearts wherever we took him and his toothy grin made him popular through school.

Wilson, he was the youngest of the boys. His room was at the front of the house, as was Brittany's. Wilson, in contrast to Russell, found anything to do with racing cars fascinating. His plain white bedroom was livened up by his full wall painting of a racing start line, filled with numerous famous, popular and expensive racing cars. Dad regularly took him Go Karting, and Wilson would return home with medals and trophies every time. He also looked alarmingly different to Russell despite being the sane gender and only 1 year younger than him! Dark, wavy locks fell around his eyes and head, short enough for it to be practical, but long enough for him to appear as 'cool'. He had bright green eyes which were a show stopper and were often the first thing that people would discuss upon meeting him. He was slightly chunkier that Russell, but not in a bad way as Russell was always very thin. 

Brittany also had a bedroom at the front of the house. It was the smallest bedroom but was still generous in size. Being a typical young girl, she loved dressing up and playing, so rather than making her a typical princess room, Dad painted all her walls a very slight pink, and created a boutique looking bedroom, with the smallest wall brandishing various paintings of lipsticks, all in marvellous bright colours too. She loved it.

On the upper floor of the house, there was a slightly smaller landing, with a fair sized bathroom, and 3 further bedrooms. On the right next to the bathroom was mum and dads room. They chose a simple beige colour and decorated their room with various pictures of their children. Brittany was a beautiful child, he had long mousy brown hair with curled into ringlets at the end. She had an enormous gappy smile and her eyes would shine whenever she was happy. She would have been a heartbreaker if she grew up.

Next to my room was my twins room. She loved high fashion when we were growing up, so dad simply pained all her walls a very light purple, and on the smaller wall. He covered it with articles from fashion magazines. Her dressing table was a brilliant white with lights illuminating it, and fair lights hung around her room in the shape of dragon flies. As we were twins, we did grow up looking fairly similar, but not overly so. Florence had much lighter brow tones in her hair compared to mine, and enjoyed drama and singing at school. Me, on the otherhand, although I was good at them, I much preferred sports. Florence never had an issue getting a date for the school disco, although we were only young, me (?) I went on my own every year! I was always much taller than her as well, making me awkward. I miss her now.

Our house was large, typically American in a gated neighbourhood. I wasn't able to sleep that night so I sat on the steps between the ground floor and the second floor, and whilst I listened intently, I heard arguing. I heard plates smashing. I heard mum crying and dad begging. I heard the sounds of my world coming crashing down around me. 

"Why could you do this to us, the children Alfie" my mum sobbed and screamed. 

My dad grew silent, before barely whispering that he felt he was unnatural.

Mum choked on her uneven breath and screamed   
"Another man Alf, a man, how did I turn you into this?!"

This clearly angered dad,   
"You know what Hannah, maybe if you didn't sleep around this wouldn't happen!"

I heard a gasp, my mother I think, then a shattering of glass. My mother had thrown the china wedding plate my grandma had presented to them on their wedding day. It's red rim now smashed across the floor, some shards, very slightly, entering my father. My dad didn't say a word. I feared he was dead. I heard footsteps approach. I heard mum sobbing. My dad calmly walked up the stairs, blood dripping steadily from a few small but open wounds. He briefly brushed his hands through my hair. I sat on the stairs for ten minutes in silence; waiting. After another few minutes, my father returned, this time, carrying a suitcase. He placed the suitcase on the top of the stairs and sat on the top step with me, both feeling as vulnerable as the other. He kissed me once on the head and told me that everything was going to be okay, and that he was sorry. I was suddenly the second oldest in the house and had responsibilities to look after my younger siblings. My dad promised me he'd be back, and I promised my dad I'd wait for him. He squeezed my shoulder once before retrieving his suitcase and walking towards the door. Without looking back, he left, locked the door, and posted his house key through the letter box. My first ever heart break. 

\--------------------------------------

The crowd were stunned to silence, and this is probably one of the least hard hitting parts of this interview.

Piers looked stunned I think, it was difficult to tell through all his make up. The makeup artists have done a fantastic job of making him look almost youthful and happy. They've hidden his anger lines which were deeply embedded around his eyes and removed any bags from the surrounding area. His lips appear to be pinker than normal, making his smile brighter and the bones of his face are more prominent, making him look younger, almost my age. I hate what the media has done to people.

"Well, Niama, how did this make you, and the rest of your family feel?" Asked Piers in a supposedly sincere way.

\--------------------------------------

Over the next week, mum withdrew herself from her family more and more. On a morning, she no longer woke up to help us get ready for school, that job was now left to me and Florence. Getting breakfast ready was my job as I knew how to work the toaster and I was the only one tall enough to reach the plates and mugs. After breakfast it was Florence's job to ensure everyone had brushed their teeth whilst I packed school bags. Then we would take the short walk to school, before returning home and often having to cook tea if mum was still in bed. 

After a few weeks, dad started sending postcards, and on one of them, it was directly addressed to me, he invited me along to meet his new boyfriend, he said he'd pick me up and fake me out for the day, have lunch together and I can meet him then. I was really excited? I was going to meet the person who was finally making dad so happy. He said his name was John, and he was an aspiring actor on Broadway and more. Dad claimed he was happy, funny, and in love. I couldn't wait to meet him! 

The following Tuesday, dad arrived to pick me up round the corner. I told Florence that I was going out with a boy and that she had to cover for me, which she did. Dad was stood outside the car on the path waiting for me, and as soon as he saw me, he threw his arms open for me to run into. Dads hugs were always the best, cuddly, warm, smelling of cigars and rose air freshener. My whole world was in colour again. Gently, as dad released me, he introduced me to the man standing nervously behind him,

"Nemo, this is John, John Barrowman"

John had a smile that could light up the world. His eyes twinkled with both nervousness and excitement, much like mine did. His jet black hair and charismatic personality were immediately evident with his first words

"Hey Niama, fancy milkshakes?"

I already loved him.


End file.
